What You Don't Know Will Hurt You
by Mynt Mint
Summary: Kurt dreamed that he and Blaine would get together, but someone seems to have their soul set on breaking them up. Using whatever means necessary. Kurt and Blaine have to discover who their stalker is, before the stakes get too high.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** What You Don't Know Will Hurt You

**Author:** Mynt Mint (AKA Emotionalcrux)

**Fandom**: _Glee, _Season 2 AU (from Original Song)

**Genre:** Suspense/Romance

**Rating:** M

**Warning(s)**: Violence, Language, Murder, Sexual References, Substance Abuse

**Pairings:** Klaine [Kurt/Blaine], Spuck [Sam/Puck]

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Glee. Damn. All characters and songs used in this fan fiction are the property of their rightful owners (i.e. not me).

**Summary**: Kurt dreamed that he and Blaine would get together, but someone seems to have their soul set on breaking them up. Using whatever means necessary. Kurt and Blaine have to discover who their stalker is, before the stakes get too high.

**AN:** So, because I'm the shining example of good workmanship, I've started yet another fiction. I just had a burning desire to write this, and that's how it came to be. I've wandered off into another ship, but if people would like me to continue, I will.

This is just a prologue of sorts, and any further chapters will be longer! Please review if you'd like me to continue.

* * *

Kurt pulled back from Blaine's kiss with a blush. His heart was beating so fast he couldn't distinguish clear beats. He spoke quickly, knowing Blaine was barely managing to remain seated on Dalton's couches, his hands gripping the plush leather in restraint. The look in his eyes was a mix of lust and deeper lust.

"Is this- is this really how you feel?" he dared to ask.

Blaine nodded, biting his lip. "I think I've had these feelings for a while. It's just now they're more... obvious."

Kurt looked slightly cautious, but understood. "I- I get it. But what if these feelings just... turn vague again.. and you leave me."

Blaine blinked, somewhat owlishly. "Kurt, do you like me?"

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. Blaine grabbed his hand.

"Then it doesn't matter what happens!" he exclaimed. "Live for now! You can't keep thinking of what's going to happen next - otherwise next will be now, and then you'll be thinking further ahead. Stop. Live for now. Live with me."

Kurt didn't reply, instead voicing his answer with action - rushing up to throw his arms around Blaine and mash their lips together with intense, fiery longing.

When Blaine was finally released from Kurt's grip, he panted. "Just so you know, I don't think these feelings will fade any time soon."

Before the two could be swept into another embrace, Kurt's phone beeped. As he rushed to grab it out of his blazer, so did Blaines.

"That's funny," Blaine smiled.

"No, it's not." Kurt stared blankly at his screen. Rushing to display his message, Blaine sobered immensely.

"**Together at last. Big Mistake - K**" Blaine read aloud.

"You got the same one?" Kurt compared their screens. "K isn't for Kurt. I don't know who this is."

Blaine stood up, walking to check their surroundings. "We're alone," he concluded, peering out the ornate window. "Probably just some homophobe, just forget about it." He returned to Kurt, trying to sit with allure. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

Kurt and Blaine walked backstage with the rest of the Warblers, fairly confident of their performance. They had given it their all for Regionals, and it had shown.

"That was amazing!" Kurt trilled, "I don't want to sound up myself but I'm going to have to practice sincerity in front of Mercedes because we kicked ass!" he jumped up and down. Blaine was glad his boyfriend was happy.

"Yeah, we did rock," he agreed, slightly more reserved than his counterpart. He gratefully accepted well wishes from his teammates, shaking hands and bumping fists until his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"**Couples who sing together, stay together? This isn't Disney - K**" Kurt spoke from behind Blaine, brandishing his phone. "Again? It has to be someone here." The two scanned the sea of Warblers, trying to catch a glimpse of someone suspicious texting, or malevolent gazes - but nothing. It seemed to be a game of hide and seek, except they didn't know they were playing.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine reassured, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm sure it's nothing."

* * *

Kurt placed Pavrotti's coffin gingerly in the dirt, standing back up to hold Blaine's hand. Blaine squeezed back tightly.

"Does it remind of your mum's funeral?" Blaine asked, rubbing his thumb in circles.

"A little," Kurt admitted. Before he had a chance to speak again, his phone beeped. "Talk about a mood killer," he mumbled, fishing into his pockets.

Blaine looked concerned as Kurt's face darkened. "What's it say?"

In silence, Kurt showed him his screen.

**Similar to your mother's funeral. At least this ones for the dead - K**

"What?" Blaine gasped, angry. He surveyed the park, without knowing what he was looking for. "Someone has to be following us, Kurt. What does this mean?"

Kurt ignored him, instead focusing on the flittering paper barely visible behind Pavrotti's makeshift grave. He picked it up, smoothing the sheet in the wind as Blaine rambled on behind him. "Oh my God."

"What is it?" Blaine paused, peering over Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt was too distracted to notice. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the eyes on the photo he held. They looked like his. The long hair the women sported, a colour they both shared. And the distinctive facial features, which he inherited. He could tell who this was from his memories, and other photos. Except this one looked recent - like the woman had aged at least ten years. He flipped the photo over, the words **LIVE** **REST**** IN PEACE** shining in black.

"She's alive," he breathed.

"What?"

"_My mom's alive!_"

* * *

I think it may be slightly obvious where I got the inspiration for this fiction from. If anyone would like me to continue this, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

This was actually kind of fun to write - as well as scary-ish

Just adding more pieces to the puzzle - please review and tell me what you think :)

* * *

"Hold on, Kurt." Blaine grabbed Kurt's shoulders, steadying him. "Kurt! Be reasonable! There's a million ways this photo could have been fabricated. There's photoshop, aging software, digital manipulation - it could be just a cruel prank. We seem to be getting a lot of those lately."

Kurt's excitement hindered slightly, and mixes of other emotions battled on his face. Fear. Joy. Doubt. Anger. "We held a funeral and everything," Kurt said to no-one, "I guess that should tell me she's really gone. But for some reason I know this picture is real."

Blaine, despite thinking Kurt was going out on more than a limb, nodded passively. "Okay, Kurt," he spoke softly.

"I know that you think I'm being irrational," Kurt pleaded, seeing past the words, "But I have this feeling. This creepy, dreadful feeling that we have some homophobic stalker-"

"I have that too," Blaine beckoned, unimpressed.

"-That knows more about my mom than I do. I have to know, even if it's a lie."

Kurt turned on his heel, shoving the photo in his satchel and leaving Blaine in his wake, only the sound of crunching leaves between them.

* * *

When Kurt returned home, he had intended to march into the living room and disrupt his fathers Deadliest Catch regimen with the photo, except his father was busy in the kitchen. The hushed tones showed it was a conversation Burt wanted secret. Kurt edged slowly towards the kitchen, the conversation becoming more and more audible.

"Yes... No... It's been ten years, I'm not telling him now... She can't - so there's really no point..." He paused for a moment, the line buzzing with noises. He scoffed in response, "Over my dead body."

Kurt slipped on the door, having leaned in so far he fell straight onto the kitchen tiles.

"Gotta go," Burt whispered into the receiver, hanging up before an answer. "Kurt!" he grinned, "When did you get home?" Kurt saw his dad's extra pep was compensation for his private communications.

"Just walked through the door," Kurt smiled.

"Great - Carole will be home with dinner soon, go get changed before she gets back."

"...O-kay," Kurt said, leaving to change. He was tempted to ask about the exchange he overheard, but common sense reminded him he wouldn't get very far.

"Oh, hey Kurt," Finn said, greeting his brother as he walked into their room. Kurt sensed a rigid atmosphere between them, which was confusing.

"Hello Finn," he replied tentatively, hoping not to provoke more tension. Finn looked at him with hesitant expectation, and, disheveled, Kurt reciprocated the gaze.

Gripping his satchel, he asked, "Is there something I'm supposed to tell you?"

Finn flinched. "No! No- well, maybe? I don't think so anymore... I have to go-" tripping on both words and feet, Finn quickly exited the room, bumping into Kurt's bedside table as he did so. With a scowl, Kurt replaced the frame of him and Blaine into its original position and began to change.

* * *

Blaine sat on his bed, surprised at how contradicting his room was. It was immaculate - from the ornate floor molders to the Feng-shui his room was arranged in - you wouldn't guess it's resident was quite the internal mess. This whole 'K' mess, while occupying Kurt to the greatest extent, was beginning to frustrate Blaine. There was one memory in particular that keep repeating itself in his mind, and, however relevant, he hadn't yet brought himself to tell Kurt.

_Studying alone in Dalton's library, Blaine's concentrated aura was disrupted by Kyle slamming his books down on the table with utter disregard._

_Blaine tried to hide most of his annoyance, but let a glimpse of it show to make sure Kyle knew he was interrupting. "Um... hey?"_

"_Look," Kyle said, the frankness of his voice startling Blaine. "You have to quit it with this Kurt kid. It's not right."_

_Blaine tapped his pencil on the desk, raising an eyebrow. "What's not right?" he asked, despite already knowing._

"_You and Kurt. _Together._ That's unnatural."_

"_Well so is bleaching your eyebrows, but that never held you back." Blaine smiled evilly, his revision laying forgotten. "I've ran once from people like you - and I'm not going back. My life is none of your business, so it's best you stay out of it."_

_Kyle growled. "This school may have zero tolerance against bullying, but the world isn't. You better watch it." He grabbed his books and left in a huff, leaving Blaine to grin in what was, to him, a victory._

Blaine stared at his phone, K's first message taunting him. It was obvious. This was Kyle's clever way to torment homosexuals. Despite this, Blaine didn't seem to know how Kyle knew about Kurt's mother, and how he managed to find a picture of her - Blaine had only ever seen one framed in Kurt's locker.

That, combined with the ever repeating memory, convinced Blaine he had to confess his knowledge to Kurt.

* * *

Kurt had always admired his locker at McKinley - his ability to turn claustrophobic space into stylish design was one he highly regarded, and he had to congratulate himself on his work with his old one. It went from spider webs and layers of dust to three shelves and a sophisticated shine. Since moving to Dalton, the lockers were one thing Kurt took a childish liking to. In comparison to McKinley there were spacious and clean, and less likely to contain vermin or graffiti.

He was just about to open said locker when a conflicted Blaine appeared beside him.

"Oh, hello," he said in surprise, nonetheless leaning in for a kiss. Blaine delivered, but the shadow of his lips exposed his distraction - when it wasn't completely adorable, the couples connection was invading. "Is there something wrong?"

Blaine sighed. "Yes. No." He scratched his head. "Maybe."

Kurt fumbled with his combination, maintaining focus on his boyfriend. "If there's something wrong, you shouldn't hesitate to tell me."

Blaine nodded, internalizing the advice. "You're right. You're absolutely right... But it's something about... You know...-"

"-K." Kurt breathed. The shock in Kurt's voice made Blaine look up and see him grasping a piece of lined paper. It pictured a rainbow, and a fire on the right side. The flames were licking at the colours so they drooped slightly. There was also a message.

"**There's only a pot of fire at the end of your rainbow,**" Blaine read over Kurt's shoulder, brow furrowed. "What kind of dick writes this-" He stopped abruptly, staring down the corridor.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, "What are you looking at?" Kurt traced his line of sight to see a suspicious, hooded figure watching them intently. The hood was pulled too far down the persons face to see any facial features, but they had no trouble quickly navigating away.

Blaine sprinted after him, Kurt a little slower to react. Down the corridor, barely any students reacted to the sudden outburst. It was odd, but Blaine was too busy trying to grasp the fluttering jacket inches from his hold. It was almost uncanny how that hood managed to stay tight, concealing the face of its wearer. Blaine lurched forward, merely tugging on the fabric before it was whisked from his grip. The figure, now aware of Blaine's proximity, accelerated out of reach. In doing so, he dropped a potentially revealing key, and Blaine felt collecting the item was reward enough for his chase.

When Kurt finally caught up, he was already turning the key over in his hands, contemplating their next move.

"What's that?" Kurt puffed, adjusting the satchel on his shoulder.

"This," Blaine answered triumphantly, "is a key." He placed it in Kurt's palm. "A hotel room key, to be precise. Number 14 of American Family Motel."

Kurt looked offended. "I told you I'm not ready-"

Blaine hushed him. "-It's not mine! K dropped it! If we just go to this motel and go in the room we can probably find out who K is."

Kurt stared down at the key, at the embossed '14', hoping the sight would force an answer. He looked up, determined. "Today. After school."

* * *

Kurt and Blaine stepped out of Blaine's Toyota, excited and scared by what they might find.

Blaine looked up at the sign, with faded letters and peeling paint. "Let's hurry this up, I don't like the look of this place."

"It's not dangerous," Kurt said, "Just cheap." He stepped onto the footpath and found Room 14, waiting for Blaine to get the key.

"You ready?" Blaine asked, shoving it into the lock. Kurt looked anxious but determined, not answering. Blaine paused. "Just stand back, if you're scared," he said, but his hand was shaking on the handle. Kurt, bursting with suspense, lurched for the door and pushed inside.

Blaine rushed after, and saw a frozen Kurt. Looking on the bed, he realized they weren't alone.

* * *

"_Puck? Sam?_" Kurt blushed a deep crimson as he saw both boys shirtless, and with such intimacy that could only imply one situation.

Sam pushed himself away from Puck so fast he fell off the bed. "What are you doing here?!" he asked, grabbing his shirt from the floor and redressing.

"Um, well..."

"Look, if you wanted in you could've asked first," Puck said lazily, tracing circles on his bare stomach. "Answer would have been no anyway, but we could've avoided this awkward as fuck situation."

Blaine opened his mouth to try his hand at explaining. He didn't expect to be convincing at all, and was hoping the end of his sentence would come as he improvised the beginning, but he was interrupted by the slamming of the door. All their heads snapped towards the noise. "Wind?" Blaine tried.

"There's no wind," Puck challenged. A piece of paper was neatly slid underneath the door, and from behind the closed curtains, a silhouette was visible fleeing into anonymity. Kurt rushed to open the door, but an eerie, stranded silence was all that was. He returned, locking the room for good measure, and picked up the letter.

"**When two becomes four, the threat becomes more,**" he read aloud, "'**K.**'"

"Who's K?" Sam asked, "And why is he threatening us?"

"He - at we think it's a he - is our stalker," Blaine explained, "he dropped a room key and we traced it back here hoping we could figure out who he is - but I guess it's what he planned."

"So I'm guessing your stalker is now also our stalker." Puck sighed. "I've seen enough episodes of CSI to know where this is going. Is there anything else on the note?"

"Nothing." Kurt passed the letter onto Puck.

Blaine's nostrils flared at a dangerously familiar smell. "Is that... burning?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, sniffing the air. He followed the scent to the cupboard, and opened it. Inside was a mortar, the pestle unknown, it's contents flickering with flames. The mortar didn't burn his fingers when he touched it, so Sam brought it to the bathroom sink. The others gathered round, a general sense of relief when they realized this was the extent of the current fusillade.

"Well, this stalker's all for the smoke and mirrors, but this still seems pretty tame."

Sam ignored Puck's comment, instead reaching into flames to retrieve a familiar picture. He shook the flames off it and placed it on the counter. It was his parents. Puck silenced. Sam fished out another photo, then another, until all that was left was ash. He had recovered all the pictures, some slightly blackened on the corners, but their message still legible. Arranged one letter per picture, '**LIES**' was spelt across each adoring photo of the couple.

* * *

Sorry I had to cut it short - need to do a touch more research before continuing. Please tell me how you like it so far :)


	3. Chapter 3

Does anyone even read this? I'm not sure. If you do, then here you go :)

* * *

_Nurse Thimble knocked lightly on Peter's door. After a pause, she tried again. _

_"Peter?" she called, pressing her ear to the wood. Silence. A look of worry crawled upon her face. She was warned about this student. She opened the door and gasped. _

_It was empty. The bed was stripped, it's many sheets used as a flimsy rope out the window. Muffled tunes from an iPod that was still playing was all that could be heard, and the nurse placed a headphone near her ear. _

_"I am free-e-e-e-e-e-e"_

_It was eerie, cocky, and on a loop. Even from the room she managed to hear a clang from outside, and she rushed to the window. Sticking her head out, she saw a figure slip out of the grounds, closing the gates to the Colorado Springs Military Reform Centre behind them._

* * *

Kurt, Blaine, Puck, and Sam all stared at the photos. Sam was the most gutted, and the most confused. He turned to Kurt, desperate for answers.

"What do you know so far about 'K'?"

"Not much, unfortunately," Kurt said. "We'll tell you the little we know somewhere safer - this person could be watching us."

"My house," Blaine chirped. "My parents are out most of the time."

The look of concern Sam and Puck shared made it seem as if they knew they were about to be drawn into something much bigger than what they were prepared for. The look ended, but they still felt tangs of mystery and dread as they climbed into their car and followed Blaine.

* * *

Blaine closed the door to his house behind Sam, and slid the lock shut.

"Okay," he breathed, "Here we can talk."

Neither Sam nor Puck seemed to be listening, but rather taking in their breathtaking surroundings. The walls were adorned with classical pictures, and the windows framed the beautiful forest that was just outside. Raising his head, Sam noticed a chandelier, its many lights painting shadows of everything.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Um, I'll guess we can chat in the living room... it's more comfortable."

"Dude," Puck gaped as they followed, "How many people did you have to kill to get this house?"

Blaine laughed soberly. "Ah, none. My family's fairly... well off, in terms of funds." He took a seat on the plush leather longue, instructing the others to feel welcome. Once they were all seated Kurt decided to throw their cards on the table.

"Well, we started getting anonymous texts from a blocked ID when we first started dating," he said. "At first we thought it was some stupid prank, just from some homophobe, but-" he hesitated "-I think he wants to hurt us more than some old bully."

"How do you know it's a he?" Sam asked.

"Because we saw him. Well, not his face, but his physique was that of a man." Blaine looked down at his hands, twisted nervously in his lap. "And... I'm pretty sure it's someone who was harassing me."

Kurt looked up. "You never told me this?"

"No," Blaine answered, rushed and apologetic. "I was going to but I saw him and got the key, I was distracted. Anyway, I think it might be Kyle Sanders."

Silence. "...Who the hell is Kyle Sanders?" Puck blurted.

"Some kid at Dalton," Kurt said with spite. "Never spoken to him, though."

"He's spoken to me, and he laid some major hints that he would start something if me and Kurt had a relationship... and... here we are."

"But that doesn't make much sense - what would Kyle have against my parents?"

"And what would he know about my mom?"

"Look," Blaine sighed. "I'm not sure, but right now this is the only lead we have. I say we follow it until we have a new one."

"Wow wow wow - hold up." Puck lifted himself from his slouched position. "I thought we were just discussing. Now we're planning? When did this happen?"

Blaine was taken aback. "Well, I just assumed that we want this to stop - I mean, how else are we going to get him to quit?"

"Simple - do nothing." Puck seemed confident in his idea, despite his decadence. "Problems go away if you leave them alone."

"That's not true!" Blaine objected. "Problems can get worse, ten times worse, if left alone!"

"Just try it," Puck said. He glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. "There's no point yelling at some guy who's gonna stop anyway. Come on, Sam, you have to be home soon."

Sam still had questions, but rose anyway. "I'd like to know about these 'lies' my parents are holding," he confessed, "But I also don't want to know..." He grasped the handle of the front door. "I guess for now my ignorance is bliss. Cya guys." With that, the two left Blaine's household, Blaine rather astonished.

"Just... do nothing?" He repeated it, slowly, trying to gauge Puck's logic through his stretched syllables. "There's no way in hell that's going to work."

Kurt held Blaine's hands in his. "It's okay, relax. We should just give it a shot - Sam and Puck are probably still a bit shocked about being seen. I never would have guessed it. Well, maybe Sam, but Puck?-"

"Not the point," Blaine continued. "That's why we shouldn't be taking their lead. They don't know about homophobia. If you ignore it it doesn't go away - it gets worse. The whole point of it is to piss us off and get us scared. We know all about that. Not them."

Kurt was caught off guard by the reasoning, and could only tighten his grip in response.

* * *

Sam closed the door to Puck's car and nervously fingered his seatbelt.

"Do you really think this is going to go away?" Sam asked. "That it's just some joke?"

Puck pulled Sam's hand into his. "Positive," he said. "If Santana asks, just say we were..."

"Studying?" Sam laughed.

Puck grinned. "At the gym - joint workout."

"Doing push ups on each other."

Puck snickered, rubbing circles on Sam's hand. He leaned forward to breathe in his ear. "Should we start where we left off?" He left nimble kisses on Sams jawline.

Sam's eyes fluttered, turning to stare out the window and let Puck target his neck. "Wait," he said suddenly, bolting upright. "Someone's watching us."

Puck tore himself from Sam's neck, just missing the hooded figure hide fade into the trees.

"I swear there was someone watching!"

"Calm down, Sam," Puck said, beginning to worry.

"Just- Just drive, we have to go."

* * *

Even though Sam was adamant they were being watched, and that he and Puck should maybe lay low for a while, it didn't stop him from letting his girlfriend sit next to Brittany as he slid next to Puck in the next glee lesson.

"Find out who was following us?" Puck asked. Sam choked and scanned the room to see who had heard. "Dude, relax. You're going to give yourself heart failure."

Sam exhaled heavily. "No - how would I know who it was? Blaine's neighbours don't seem like the prying type."

When Mr Schue finally walked into the choir room Sam sat straighter, hoping a lesson concentrated on dance routines would distract him. It didn't.

"Alright guys!" He clapped his hands together. "Before we begin I believe Finn has a song he'd like to sing." Mr. Schue's welcoming smile faltered as Finn took the stage with a sober and serious expression.

"Uh, thanks," he said. "This is just to get something off of my chest. If you think it's about you - it probably is." Rachel seemed slightly concerned at that statement, but Finn locked eyes with Sam instead. Puck nudged him, but the blond was focusing completely on the song.

_I will keep quiet, you won't even know I'm here. You won't suspect a thing - you won't see me in the mirror. But I crept into your heart, you can't make me disappear... til I make you_

"Dude, I think he's singing to us," Sam whispered.

"There's no way," Puck scoffed.

_I will be here, when you think you're all alone. Seeping through the cracks, I'm the poison in your bones. My love is your disease - I won't let it set you free... til I break you_

"Okay maybe there's some way," Puck froze. "Was he the one watching us?"

"I have no idea - he's watching us now." Sam noticed Finn staring intently. He tried to act as normal as possible, but he didn't know what normal was in this situation.

_You'll never know what hit you, won't see me closing in - I'm gonna make you suffer. This Hell you put me in, I'm underneath your skin... the devil within... you'll never know what hit you._

"Is this meant to be a warning?" Puck wondered, "...We're going to have to tell Kurt."

Finn returned to his seat in silence, before Rachel began whispering in his ear.

"Um, thank you, Finn..." Mr Schuester responded, "That was... different."

Puck and Sam paid little attention to Mr. Schuester from then on, instead distracted by the confronting introduction.

* * *

Puck dumped his bag on the floor of his room as he jumped onto his bed, content just to lie inanimate for the next ten minutes. It was a reward, almost - being able to lie there, still out of laziness. Sam was with Santana and Lauren was being distant, so he was allowed a small moment of unproductiveness before picking up his phone and dialling Kurt.

"You'll never guess what happened," he spoke.

"Puck?" Kurt replied. "Oh, hi! Yes, what happened?" He tone was more serious. "Is it about K?"

"Yeah. Finn sang this song in glee - it was kinda suss."

"Kinda suss?"

"Okay - really suss. He kept staring at me and Sam. If I didn't know any better I'd think he'd be trying to get in on our naked wrestling but that's not the case. He was trying to freak us out. "

"...Are you sure?" Kurt was being very sceptical, and puck could see his raised eyebrow through the phone. "Finn seems a bit too dull to be a part of this. Besides, he's my brother."

"I'm telling you - somehow Finn's involved."

"But he couldn't've been the guy who dropped the key - he doesn't go to Dalton!"

"That was obvious," Puck said dryly. He hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Well, maybe there is some invisible link between the two - but I really have to go. Keep me posted if anything else happens."

"Later." Puck terminated the call, lingering on Kurt's last words. "Invisible link..." He pulled the note K slipped under the motel room door from his bag and set it on his desk, retrieving the invisible ink kit his aunt got him for his eleventh birthday from under his bed.

* * *

"Who was that?" Blaine asked as Kurt hung up his phone.

"Just Puck," he sighed, throwing his phone next to his biology homework.

Blaine looked up from his work. "Is that... bad?"

"No, not really..." Kurt paused. "He thinks Finn has something to do with-" he quickly scanned the Dalton Library. It was empty "- K."

"Well, is it a random accusation, or a genuine concern? I mean, if his name was Kinn I'd be more suspicious, but..."

"He has been acting weirdly around me lately," Kurt contemplated. "But that could be because of heaps of things. I mean, it's not like the world revolves around us - people have their own personal problems."

"Exactly," Blaine agreed. "It's probably nothing, so don't stress yourself. Just quiz me on the chemical structure on chlorophyll, will you? I need to get that down before tomorrow's lesson..."

"This movie is seriously boring," Santana mumbled into Sam's ear. She trailed her fingers along his inner thigh, but he swatted her hand off. She looked bemused.

"Sshh, this is the best part!" He said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Santana settled for grabbing a handful of popcorn, chewing as loud as she cared to. "I really don't know how you can find the same repetitive thing appealing - haven't you seen this movie six times? If I'd stayed with one sexual partner for six days I think I'd have to marry them."

"What a great thing to tell your boyfriend," Sam replied tartly, still focused on the film.

"Considering you haven't even let me grope you under the table at Breadstick's I think you're safe."

"Cool."

Santana paused for a second, battling emotions, before slapping Sam in the face. "Ow!" he yelled, earning some hushes from the back rows. "What was that for?!"

"Usually I find guys ignoring me attractive - but you, Evans, take it to a whole new level." She stormed from the cinema, blinking back a tear she wouldn't in a million years let slip down her face.

* * *

Sam arrived home in a less than pleasant mood, but it seemed his parents were also unhappy. He heard the argument from the front door, the sound resonating from the living room.

"I can't believe you never told me this, Dwight!"

Sam edged closer, quietly, curiously.

"How could I have told you Mary, what was I supposed to say!"

"Well, I was going to find out sooner or later, don't you think? And what about the kids?!"

Sam stopped in his tracks, meters from the living room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could his father's face red with anger.

"Don't you think I've already thought about them! This isn't easy for me!"

His mother was getting angrier, but Sam was preparing to walk into the room and demand answers.

"But Mary, how could I possibly tell them - that - that this is all a lie?" Dwght's voice was soft, pleading. Rich with tears. It made Sam jump back from the door handle and visualize the four pictures that they found in the hotel room.

_**LIES**_

Taking careful steps back, he retreated into his room, closing the door behind him. Before he even had time to rationalize his thoughts, his phone buzzed.

"Hello?" he answered, sitting on his bed.

"Hey dude, it's me. You have to come over right now."

"Look, Puck," Sam lamented, "I can't hook up right now, I'm going through some stuff."

"That's nice. It's okay though - the Puckerman needs to rest. This is about that song Finn sang. I've already called Blaine and Kurt."

Sam jumped up, grabbing his keys. "What did you find?"

"Just hurry up and come over, otherwise they'll be here first and I really suck at gay talk."

"Huh. Ironic."

"Shut up."

"Love you too," Sam teased, hanging up and racing out the house.

* * *

By the time Sam arrived at Puck's, Kurt and Blaine were already there.

"Hi guys," he said as he walked through the door. He went to kiss Puck, but was stopped by a hand on his chest. He was left to awkwardly unpucker his lips and wave at the others. It seemed that while he was comfortable in the presence of Kurt and Blaine, someone else wasn't.

"You don't have to hide who you are around us," Blaine assured, feeling guilty his company was interfering. "We're not going to judge you."

"Uh, thanks," Sam smiled. He made a side glance at Puck, and could see his walls were slightly lower now.

"Anyway," Puck interjected, "Check this out." He brandished K's letter and placed it on the table. "There's a message written on it in invisible ink."

"What's it say?" Kurt asked.

"It's a song title. _The Devil Within._ It's the same one Finn sang during Glee today. It proves that Finn has some connection to whoever this dick K is!"

Kurt looked betrayed. "My brother? You really think he would do this."

Puck stopped. "He was my best friend, too. But we've both done things to piss him off."

"Whatever happened to just letting this pass over?"

"You were right," Puck admitted to Blaine. "I don't think this'll go away."

Blaine tried to hide his smugness. "Homophobia tends to be a continuous attack."

"But what do we do now - should we corner him?" Sam spoke.

"Well it shouldn't be too hard - I mean, I know where he lives," Kurt rolled his eyes. "But that still doesn't explain the guy at Dalton."

"Maybe Finn knows about that too," Puck proposed.

"I don't think Finn's ever talked to Kyle, but I'll ask him," Kurt decided. "Alone. It's easier to get things out of him if it's just me," he added before anyone could object.

Puck shrugged. "So it's decided?" They all nodded. "Awesome. You'll probably want to leave now, Ma's coming home soon and she gets cranky with late shifts."

"Cool, thanks for the info," Blaine said, shaking Puck's hand. Kurt, prompted by Blaine's actions, followed suit, but his femininity made it a much more awkward interaction.

"Yeah, uh, thanks, Puck." Sam held out his hand. It protruded from his person like it should be wrapped around Puck's neck as they shared a kiss. Puck grasped it, and then pulled Sam forward to kiss his cheek.

"Cya, babe."

Sam blushed, and walked out the door with a grin cemented on his face.

* * *

A hooded man sat at a desk covered with photos. Each one depicted Sam and Puck, together. Kissing in Puck's car at the front of Blaine's, and in Puck's house. And shots of the two shirtless, entwined on motel room mattresses. Multiple copies. Multiple sizes. The man took one of each, all the same size, and began to write on the back of them. The ink slowly faded away as he slid the three photos into a manilla folder.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I update so with such volatile intervals, guys. But here is chapter 4!

The song used was Love Bites (So Do I) By Halestorm

I may not have another chapter for a while now, as I am studying for my exams.

Please comment and review!

* * *

Sam took a break from his set to lean on Pucks feet as he did sit ups. The school gym was always quiet after school, which allowed them a great opportunity for private workouts. Of course, the workouts would always stem to something more intimate, but currently Puck would only innocently peck Sam at the top of each rep.

"What's a matter, dude?" Puck asked, finishing his set and sprawling on the floor. "You keep zoning out."

"Oh, sorry," Sam said, adjusting his grip on Pucks feet.

Puck wiped the sweat from his brow, sitting up. "Is something wrong?"

"... There's just a lot of crap going on at once... you know?" He lifted himself off Puck's legs to sit on the floor. "I used to think my family was pretty solid - I mean, sometimes we'd fight - but that's normal. Now I don't know what to think."

Puck nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry about it, dude. Someone's just trying to fuck you over. Truth is, there's heaps of different normals, but as long as you got a roof over your head I think you're family's cool." Puck intended for his words to be compassionate, but Sam winced in pain. "Um, sorry?"

Sam chewed on the inside of his lip. "Santana broke up with me too. But that's less important, I guess."

Puck didn't quite know how to feel about that one. "A break up's a break up, even if you have a hottie on the side." Puck winked. "They all suck. But I have a song that's perfect for these type of situations." He jumped up and grabbed his guitar from beside him gym bag. "Consider this the equivalent of chocolate and ice cream," he grinned, looping the strap over his shoulder.

Sam twisted in his position on the floor, doubtful that the song could lift his spirits. Nonetheless, his boyfriends quick jabs on his guitar made an uplifting sound.

"_1, 2, 3, 4..._

Don't listen what your girlfriend says

_She reads those magazines_

_That say you failed the test _

_You don't have what she needs_

_I slither like a viper_

_And get you by the neck_

_I know a thousand ways to help you forget about her"_

Puck's typical flirty demeanour transformed the song into a playful riot. He danced around Sam, provocatively dancing in tune. He paused to hold out a hand and lift Sam up. Together, they grinned and sang in a vigorous harmony.

"_That bitch can eat her heart out!"_

The two neglected the fact their sound echoed highly off the tiled walls and performed with complete, liberating abandon.

"_Love bites, but so do I, so do I._

_Love bites, but so do I, so do I._

_Love bites!"_

Sam was definitely out of his funk by now, and knowledge of that fact simply gave Puck more energy for the song. He closed the space between them, creating an intimacy that overpowered the smell of sweat and gym socks.

"_My lips are pale and vicious._

_You're foaming at the mouth._

_You've suffered in the darkness._

_I'll suck the pain right out._

_So come and taste the reason _

_I'm nothing like the rest._

_I kiss you in a way you'll never forget about me."_

The two were now nose to nose, only the vibrations of Puck's guitar strumming between them. It was a very intimate and affectionate moment, until they leant backwards and continued belting out lyrics.

"_That chick can eat her heart out!_

_Love bites, but so do I, so do I._

_Love bites, but so do I, so do I, so do I!"_

Together they screeched the end note, Sam belting it for so long Puck thought it necessary to shut him up with a kiss that nearly lasted longer than the note. When Puck pulled back, the ghost of his lips left Sam dazed for a second.

Puck grinned. "Anyway, now that you're feeling better, I wanted to ask you something serious."

"What?" Sam seemed to dread the question already.

"About... coming out?" Sam opened his mouth, but Puck jumped down his throat. "It's just that - now Santana's out of the picture - and I don't have a chance in hell with Lauren..." Puck seemed to believe Sam hated the idea already, so he closed with a dejected "It could probably soften the damage of that K guy, is all."

Sam remained pensively silent, glassy eyed as he stared into space.

Puck tried to level. "How about I drive you back to yours and we talk on the way?"

"Huh?" Sam blushed, back from his meaningful stupor. "Sorry, Puck, I have plans." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I'm really sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. I'll see you tomorrow." He darted out of the gym without the kiss Puck hoped for.

* * *

Rachel curled up against Finn on his couch. His stature allowed her to easily nestle into his grooves, and silently appreciate how he always smelt of nice deodorant. They held a comfortable and close position on the couch, even though they weren't dating. But Rachel didn't need to remind him of that.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she said, fixing an annoying tuft of his hair. "What was that song you sang about the other day? It was kinda creepy, and I'm not sure if it was aimed at me - I do love the idea of cryptic messages through song, but this one had an eerie tone that I don't want to be the target of."

"Oh, that," Finn rolled his eyes and pffted. "That wasn't about you, relax. Besides, kick ass ballads are more my thing."

She smiled. "Then why did you sing? There must have been some reason." Rachel look coyly into his eyes, conscious of her subtly persuasive actions. "I'd just feel better knowing." She traced up the inseam of his jeans with her hand, with no intention to complete what she implied.

Finn gulped, and awkwardly repositioned himself on the couch. "Okay, here's the deal. But you can't tell _anyone..._"

* * *

Kurt and Blaine sat amidst their fellow Warblers in the common room. They had just finished an arduous training session, and as per usual had ordered pizza to wind down. Even though there was a high possibility of K lurking amongst their friends, the two felt comfortable enough in the crowd to let down their guards.

The two were sitting near the doorbell's speaker, responsible for collecting the pizza. They were the only one's close enough to hear it ring. A familiar voice announced his presence.

*Bzzt* _"Um, I'm the pizza guy."_

Blaine paused. "We know who that is. Don't we?"

"I think we do," Kurt answered, unsure of himself.

The two hurried to the school's entrance and opened the door. Sam Evans stood before them, balancing a stack of pizza boxes with one arm as he read out a slip of pizza.

"Pepperoni, Meatlovers, two Hawaiians, and two Supremes?" He glanced up, him smile faltering. "Oh." Despite his trepidation about this meeting, Sam tried to remain extremely professional. "That's seventy-five eighty, thanks." He collected the money Kurt held out for him, and in turn delivered the pizzas, staring at his feet.

"I had no idea you had a job, Sam," Blaine said, somewhat blatantly addressing the elephant between them. Kurt elbowed him.

"Uh, yeah, it's a new thing." He scratched the back of his head. "Please don't tell anyone - especially Puck."

He turned on his heel and left, leaving Kurt and Blaine to watch him go.

* * *

When Sam finally returned to the motel from his shift, he quietly waded between Stevie and Stacy's mattresses to sit on the motel floor. The experience was quite surreal, in the most negative sense. His family was homeless. Suddenly and abruptly living in a one room motel while they desperately tried to get back on their feet. His parents were still out, presumably looking for jobs.

Most of their possessions had been sold - he was lucky enough to have kept his car. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his guitar. He tried not to dwell on the fact. Instead, he pulled out a photo album from one of the boxes lining the walls and flicked through it. He lost himself in the memories, going back to times where everything was okay and so was everyone too, for that matter. He delved through whole albums, eventually reliving lives that were his parents. His photos weren't even in the third album he looked through. Instead, he flicked past photos of his parents smiling, living in such a way that made him doubt the authenticity of K's threats.

The next section of that album, judging by the difference in location and weather, must have been on a holiday. Sam realised he really did have his mothers eyes; but had no idea why everyone claimed he had his father's jaw. He flicked the page, and a photo of his parents glowing with Kurt's parents. He was perplexed, and flicked some more. Puck's parents were there, too. And not that he'd even seen them, but the resemblance of the next unknown couple made him pigeonhole them as Blaine's mother and father. A group shot finalized the album, with an extra unknown couple, but it was enough for Sam to phone Kurt.

* * *

After their practice, Kurt settled neatly on a square of the sofa in his house, believing the rustling outside to be a stray cat. Blaine came into the room with a bowl of popcorn and placed it on Kurt's lap.

"Thank you," Kurt piped. Blaine circled around the house, turning off lights. "Wait! Not that last one!" Kurt's face rebounded the light from the tv, and Blaine was slightly mesmerized. "It short circuits - touch it and we'll have our own personal blackout."

"Sounds romantic," Blaine teased, abandoning the switch to sit beside Kurt. The two cuddled closer, nesting the bowl between them. "There wasn't much K business at school today, you think that it might be dying down?"

"Hopefully," Kurt said, grabbing a fistful of popcorn. "Maybe they just got bored or something."

"Good. I don't Sam and Puck could deal with that stuff."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, "their position is vulnerable as it is already."

Blaine turned to face Kurt, abandoning the screen. "Do you think we should try and... you know... help them through it?"

Kurt's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Like, just when they try and deal with coming out and stuff, just so they don't do something drastic. I think they'll take our offer better than Karofsky did."

"I guess you're right. But," he added, "Let's not get in their faces. They should try and work it out alone first, before we bombard them with the tips and tricks of being gay in Lima, Ohio."

Blaine snuggled closer, despite the lack of room. "Great. I just feel like this could be a way introduce a way for gays to be taken more seriously - I mean, they don't exactly fit the stereotype-"

Kurt grinned. "Blaine, your motives seem really selfish at the moment."

"Hey!" he defended with the same grin. "It would help them, I'm not denying it would help us. It's win-win." He settled back into the couch with another handful of popcorn, only for Kurt's phone to start ringing.

"Speak of the devil," Kurt chuckled, answering. "Hey Sam, what's up?"

* * *

Minutes later, Sam burst into the house, brandishing a photo album.

"You'll never guess what I found," he said, placing the album on the coffee table.

"Where's Puck?" Kurt asked, pausing the movie.

"Oh, I haven't called him yet," Sam replied sheepishly. "I wanted to ask you two to not mention what happened earlier again. Please."

"Okay. Sure," Kurt nodded, sensing a growing tension. And on cue, Blaine made that said tension the topic of the conversation.

"But why aren't you telling him?"

Sam looked as if he was going to ignore the question, but he blurted the answer before he could stop himself. "Because I live in a motel." He drew a shaky breath, looking at his feet again. "I'm just not ready for him to know that."

"Oh," Kurt gasped, "I'm so sorry, Sam. But please don't be scared to talk to us about it. I'm sure you'll feel better if you can vent your feelings." Blaine nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, guys," he replied, smiling sullenly. "It's just a bit hard is all. I don't want to be treated like a charity case, but we're running out of everything. Only the bare essentials will do."

It was then Kurt noticed Sam's old, worn, jacket and had a lightbulb. "Wait here," he said, "And call Puck to come over so we can see this discovery of yours."

By the time Sam finished calling Puck, Kurt reappeared with his Earth Day jacket. He handed it to Sam, who simply looked at it.

"I know you don't want charity, but friends always borrow each other's clothes. Besides, it's cashmere! I think it'll look great on you."

Sam's stared blankly at Kurt, before pulling him into an unsuspecting hug.

* * *

When Puck finally arrived at the Hudson-Hummel household he surveyed the dim surroundings.

"Is this some sort of ritual thing? Dudes, I know were all getting blackmailed but that's not really enough to become blood brothers."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "We were just watching a movie - Finn left an hour ago and we took advantage of the quiet."

"Oh." Puck grinned, turning to Sam. "Hey, babe. Nice jacket." He kissed his cheek. Sam blushed. He still wasn't used to these pseudo-public displays, but he didn't mind them, either. "What'd you find?"

Sam flipped to the final pages of the photo album.

"Hey! Those are my parents," Kurt noticed. Sam flipped to the next page.

"Yeah, those are mine," Puck acknowledged. Sam flipped it again.

"My Mom and Dad, too," Blaine wondered. "What are they all doing together?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Sam said. "My parents lived in another state altogether, so it must have been some sort of holiday." He flipped to the group photo. "I just don't know who these two people are."

They all stared at the picture, hoping for some revelation that refused to come.

"They look familiar, but I have no idea who they are," Kurt finally admitted, "But these photos mean something. Our parents know each other."

"And half of K's threats have been about our parents," Blaine deduced. "Maybe if we find out who those people are we can find out more about him!"

"I think Dad's kept some albums with mum in them. I can look through them and see if I can find when and where they were taken."

"Here," Sam took the photo out of the sleeve. "Use it as a reference."

"Thanks."

"Okay, I really have to go now - I'm supposed to be babysitting Stacey and Stevie. Cya guys. Thanks for everything." He pecked Puck on the cheek and left.

Puck was left with little time to process things, but he turned to Kurt and Blaine. "I'm going to leave as well, but have you guys noticed anything weird with Sam?"

Blaine nonchalantly shook his head. "Nothing - why do you ask?"

Puck scratched the nape of his neck. "I don't know. I know we're not out or anything - but I do care about him. I can tell when he's hiding something. I just don't know why he doesn't think he can't tell me what it is."

"I'm sure if it is anything, he'll tell you eventually," Kurt placated. He smiled, hiding his surprise at Puck's caring nature.

Puck nodded. "I guess you're right. Thanks, guys. If you hear anything, give me a shout. Cya."

"Bye," They waved Puck goodbye before turning to each other.

"They are kinda cute together," Kurt admitted. "We're gonna have to keep an eye out to keep them dating."

Blaine grinned. "You secretly love playing matchmaker, don't you?"

"Shut up," Kurt smiled, as Blaine poked his sides.

* * *

In the morning, Puck groggily woke from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes and went to eat some of the taffy he was meant to be selling for the Glee Club's Night of Neglect. It was tonight and he'd sold most of them through effective fear techniques. He was quite proud and considered himself worthy of a piece or two. He lifted the lid of the box and found a note that wasn't there before.

_**Stop Sunshine from singing at the Night of Neglect. Or I will tell the world of your relationship you neglected to tell anyone. -K**_

At first Puck scoffed. It seemed the guy was trying too hard to make a pun. But then he noticed the taffy in the box was gone, replaced was photos of him and Sam's intimate moments. Then he realized he had 12 hours to scare little Sunshine out of performing or he would be outed. But then again, if he did do it, they probably wouldn't raise enough money for nationals.

He had no idea what the hell he was going to do.

* * *

When Kurt and Blaine arrived at McKinley, Kurt absolutely insisted on giving his boyfriend a full tour. It was an act of self-interest, mostly, as it allowed him to subtly reminiscence on his past.

They held hands through the corridors.

"Aw, you miss McKinley, don't you?" Blaine guessed with a smile.

"A little, yeah," Kurt admitted. He squeezed Blaine's hand a little tighter, partly due to his forlorn feelings, partly due to the fear of seeing Karofsky approaching.

* * *

Puck rushed around the halls of McKinley, trying to find Sunshine. He really had no idea where she would be, so he was checking the best places for vocal warm-ups. Puck had almost accepted defeat until he slid down one corridor and overheard Santana talking to Kurt and Blaine.

"Oh crap," she said, stalking away and glancing at her phone. "Sunshine's twitter says she can't make it. None of her followers are coming. We are so screwed."

Puck hid by sliding up against the wall until Santana passed, breathing a sigh of relief at his luck. He returned to the backstage of the auditorium to wish Sam good luck.

* * *

Sam graced the stage to announce the beginning of the Night of Neglect. He glanced at the silent crowd, and Karofsky's face glared back at him. Nonetheless, he smiled and introduced the first act. Walking off to give Tina the spotlight, he was slightly glad there was limited people. It would let him keep an eye on Finn for any slip ups.

* * *

After the Night of Neglects predictable failure, Sam, as part of his emcee duties, was left to lock up the auditorium. He was surprised at the amount of trust that Mr. Schue had to give him such a responsibility, but Puck reminded him it was probably because he was sad about Ms Holiday again.

"Is everything okay?" Puck asked, rolling up microphone cables. He would have preferred to touch on the subject with more finesse, but he just wanted it in the open.

"Yeah," Sam lied, "Why do you ask?"

Puck chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I don't know dude - I think there's something going on. I mean, I thought you would've told me about the photo thing first."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked defensively.

"Nothing, nothing," Puck placated. The last thing he wanted to do was start a fight. "But, you know you can tell me if something's up, right?"

"Yeah, I know." Sam was about to confess to Puck, before he intervened.

"We can talk, if you want. After this we can go somewhere - I can drop you off home."

Sam flinched.

"What was that?" Puck demanded. "See? I know there's something wrong, why won't you tell me?" Puck waited for an answer, but Sam just looked away and tried to stop his lip from trembling.

"Okay, fine." Puck dropped his microphone cord. "When you wanna talk, come find me."

He left the auditorium, and the bang of the door echoed around Sam. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to stop the feeling of guilt rising in his chest.

His phone beeped and he checked the text.

_**No where to live? No where to hide -K**_

He glanced around the auditorium, which he knew was empty. Hoping for a shadow amongst the chairs, or a shuffling of feet near the exit. Nothing.

* * *

A hooded figure used the spare key of the Hummel-Hudson household to open the front door. A gloved hand silently pressed the middle light switch in the living room, disabling the power and any alarms that would announce their presence.


End file.
